


Circle of Life

by Hodgeheg002



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Underage Drinking, Whump, bits of fluff I guess, canon minor character death, the odd swear word I think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25912945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hodgeheg002/pseuds/Hodgeheg002
Summary: The not so sweet sixteens of the Tracy brothers.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23





	Circle of Life

Scott

The music was loud and the chatter in the dormitory room louder, and it was honestly a miracle that the house parents hadn’t come investigating. The room was crowded, full of guests who normally reside in different dorms but who had crammed into the tiny bedroom for the sole purpose of celebrating Scott’s sixteenth birthday. It hadn’t been an overly organised event; one of Scott’s friends, who he shared a room with, had produced a cake and a cornucopia of sweets and someone else had a smuggled bottle of rum. Soon the room had filled with friends all piling in, bringing with them more treats in the form of sweets, soda and illicit alcohol.

The room was fuzzy at the edges and Scott was having a hard time articulating exactly what it was he was trying to explain, his hands waving around wildly, but none of that seemed to matter all that much. He took another sip of the cheap rum, the Coke disguising the taste, and once again tried to explain his point to his friends, but he was starting to lose his train of thought and the room broke into raucous laughter.

“Tracy, I think you’re drunk!” One of his friends shouted, and Scott thought about it, rolling the sentence around in his head, before a slow grin graced his features.

“I think you’re right. Hey, guys, I’m drunk!”

He raised his cup and waved his arm around, sloshing the contents everywhere, whilst his friends whooped and hollered, egging him on into draining its contents. Just as he put the empty cup down, the cheering was interrupted by the soft ringing of his phone, and Scott picked it up, squinting as he checked the caller ID, before making exaggerated shushing noises.

“It’s my Mom,” he added, the noise dying down as they waited in anticipation. Someone had the presence of mind to pause the music just in time for Scott to answer his phone. “Hi Mom!”

“Hi baby, happy birthday. Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah, had fun. All in bed now though,” he added with a grin, his friends trying to stifle their giggles with their hands.

“I’m sure. Hang on, Dad wants to say hello.”

There was a pause as the phone was transferred over, and then the deep tone of Scott’s father came down the line and Scott sat instinctively straighter, part of him wishing that he was slightly more sober in order to be able to focus properly on what his father would say to him.

“Hello son, happy birthday.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Have you had fun with your friends?”

“Yes, we had a good day.” Something curled in the pit of his stomach, twisting and churning in apprehension. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was apprehensive about, and he put it down to the fact that he was drunk and talking to his father, a situation that he had never particularly wanted to be in. He forced the apprehension to the side; it was his birthday, and he wasn’t going to let something like that spoil his evening. He would be able to get through the conversation, they were never long with his father particularly when on the phone.

“Good. Make sure you’re keeping up with your studies, okay? I’m passing you back to your mother now.”

“Hey honey. We just wanted to call to let you know that we’re on our way to pick you up. The ski season at Aspen has been extended for another couple of weeks, the snowfall has been so high this year, and we manage to book the cabin for the weekend. Grandma and Grandpa Tracy are on their way to pick up your brothers.”

“What?”

“We’re taking you skiing for the weekend for your birthday. Sounds good?”

“Sounds awesome!”

Lucille laughed. “Alright then. We’ll see you first thing in the morning, so you might want to tell your friends that you need to get some sleep now.”

Scott blushed, but his mother didn’t seem to be angry. “Yes Mom. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, baby. Happy birthday.” The call ended, and Scott smiled even more brightly if possible. This birthday was shaping up to be one of the best ones yet.

Virgil

Virgil was hiding. It was hot, the mid August sun beating down on the Kansas farm, but Virgil had managed to find a shady spot in the old barn and had decided to hide there for the duration of the day. He felt tired and listless, having not slept much due to the dread of the day ahead. It wasn’t the first birthday that had happened after his mother had died- that had been his thirteenth, entry to teenagerhood and marked by appendicitis- but each year it had become a sort of grim milestone, another year without his mother, and this year seemed worse, somehow. Virgil wasn’t sure why; normally he didn’t hide, or try to draw too much attention to the day at all, with the last two years being celebrated by a family dinner and cake in the evening. Virgil chalked this year’s difference up to the fact that it was his sixteenth, the same birthday that for Scott would be forever stained by the death of their mother and grandfather.

Scott, Virgil knew, was not handling the day well. Whilst Scott might have thought that he was managing to lock his feelings away for the sake of his younger brother’s birthday, Virgil knew that the guilt of his own sixteenth- however misplaced and illogical- was eating him alive. Virgil hated being the one to remind Scott about that terrible day, to bring up emotions that were otherwise buried for most of the year, and so had taken off into the barn as soon as it had become light enough and hidden out there ever since. 

There was as scuffling sound and Virgil sat up slowly in his patch of shade, eyes trained on the door of the barn. Whilst it was probably one of his brothers making the noise and interrupting his peace, Virgil couldn’t rule out some kind of wild animal, and if that was the case it was probably best to prepare to run on the chance that-

“Hey Virg.”

-that it was just a brother. Virgil flopped back down again.

“Hey Gordon.”

Of course it was Gordon. His youngest two brothers had long since made their allegiances clear, Alan hero worshipping Scott and John whilst Gordon followed Virgil around. The allegiances were loose- the five of them were far too close for them not to be happy with any combination of brothers- but Virgil’s personality complemented Gordon’s the best, and the two could often be found together.

“Watcha doing?”

“Not much. You?”

“Exploring. Wanna come to the lake with me?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at this. This was not an unusual request from Gordon, but it was the first time he had made it of Virgil. The lake was perfect for swimming in, with a small wooden jetty to dive off and a gently sloping, sandy bank on one side to sunbathe on, but it was deep and it had been a rule in the family that one could only go if you went with someone sixteen or older. The summer Virgil had turned thirteen and spent much of his time flopped on the sofa recovering from his appendectomy, Gordon had asked their eldest brother everyday to take him. It seemed that now it was Virgil’s turn to be badgered, but Virgil found that he didn’t mind all that much. It would make a good distraction from Scott’s guilt and his own melancholy, at the very least.

“All right. Let me go and get my stuff.”

“I already got it,” Gordon announced, holding Virgil’s swim kit high.

“Did you bring sun cream?”

“Check.”

“Water?”

“Yep, and snacks.”

Virgil didn't want to think about what kind of snacks Gordon would bring. Instead he got to his feet.

“Towels? I’m not repeating last year.”

Gordon, at least, had the decency to blush. “Definitely got them,” he confirmed.

“Let’s go then.”

The two of them set off on their trek, Gordon chattering the entire time and Virgil only being required to participate at a few intervals. Virgil was grateful for Gordon’s exuberance; it allowed him to follow his younger brother at his own pace without the pressure of having to make conversation. Talking with Gordon never felt forced, and although some found that the chatter could be too much, Virgil found that it could often lead to interesting- if weird- conversations.

Gordon had just moved onto the topic of ranking his favourite species of sharks when they finally broke through the treeline that was at the edge of the lake, and Virgil stopped suddenly. Gordon’s listing of the virtues of the hammerhead shark- of which there were many- stuttered to a halt, and he crept closer to Virgil cautiously.

“Virg?”

“Surprise!” cried Grandma Tracy, somewhat redundantly. A large picnic had been set up by the lake’s edge, the old camping table groaning with food and a large cake in the centre. Everyone was there, even John, and Virgil didn’t want to think about how much sun cream must be slathered on his fair skin, but even more miraculously was the presence of his father, who must have flown in specially from California despite it being a Tuesday and therefore the middle of the working week.

“Well? Did we surprise you?” Gordon asked, breaking the tension. “Scott and Grandma planned it,” he added, and Virgil grinned.

“Yeah, you did. Thanks," he added, and Grandma Tracy pulled him into a tight hug whilst his brothers bustled around, piling food onto plates. There was a loud splash and Grandma Tracy released Virgil long enough to see that Gordon had already cannon-balled his way into the water. Virgil couldn’t help but laugh as his earlier anxiety soon became forgotten.

John

The buzzing of the phone on the desk woke John up with a jolt, and for a moment he just sat there, blinking disorientedly until his brain rebooted enough for him to pick it up and answer it. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but his sleep cycles had never been the best and they had fallen completely into disarray since moving to Harvard at the end of August, all child genius and only fifteen, and it was not uncommon for him to work through the night only to fall asleep at his desk in the early evening the next day, missing dinner and the potential of socialising with his fellow students. 

His hand stretched out and fumbled across the desk as he searched for his phone, suppressing a yawn as he did so, and he didn’t even glance at the screen as he answered it. There were only six people in the world who would think to actually call him, his few acquaintances from his brief stint at high school content to simply email, and each of those six were directly related to him. It didn’t even really matter who he spoke to; the information gleaned from the call would travel through the family at an incredible speed, and each one would ring him later to address their own individual concerns. Well. Maybe not Alan or Gordon, both of them being younger and therefore not yet qualified for the smothering and nagging the rest of his family would inflict, but they may call regardless even if it was to simply catch up with the middle sibling. ‘Keeping him grounded’, as Gordon put it, although John wished that Gordon’s version of grounding didn’t involve quite as many prank phone calls.

“Hello?” John said, finally locating his phone under piles of textbooks. He took a sip of water, the drink washing away the last of his sleep and making him feel slightly more alert.

“John?”

“Hi Dad. Is everything okay?” John was immediately on edge. Out of all of his family, his father was least likely to call unexpectedly, with the time difference between Boston and Los Angeles only partly to blame. John knew that this phone call had not been pre-arranged, as he would never have allowed himself to sleep if it had, and that alone was enough to send alarm bells ringing and prompt him to start looking up flights to either Kansas or Los Angeles on his computer.

“Everything’s fine, son. I just rang to say happy birthday.”

“My… it’s… what?” he reached over the desk, scrabbling for the calendar to check.

“Your birthday, John. Your sixteenth.”

“Oh. That’s today?”

There was a sigh down the phone. “Yes, John. You forgot, didn’t you?”

“...yes.”

“John…” there was another sigh. “Well, happy birthday. We’ll be over to visit for the weekend, but are you going to do something fun with your friends? I can help book somewhere if you want to go out and do something special.”

“No, it’s okay Dad. I’ll see them at dinner, and maybe… maybe a movie night?” It came out sounding like a question as John searched for something to say, and he did not think that he had managed to convince his father.

“Are you sure, John?”

“I’m sure. Anyway, if everyone is coming at the weekend I’ll be celebrating then.”

“Alright then. Let me know if you need anything, okay? Got enough for food?”

“Yeah, it’s all fine.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at the weekend then.”

“See you in a few days.”

The call ended and John glanced at the time. If he was quick, then he could probably make it to the dining hall in time for the end of dinner. Decided, he grabbed his campus ID and headed down to the hall.

***

It was noisy, and busy, but somehow John had managed to get a table all to himself. He told himself that he didn‘t mind eating alone, that it was preferable to having to make conversation with people he didn’t really know about things he wasn’t really interested in, but underneath it all he felt fundamentally lonely. It wasn’t a feeling he’d necessarily had before, or at least, not one he’d been able to identify. There had been times back in Kansas, when he was taking classes with people who were two years his senior-three, in the case of Billy Phillips, who had been kept back a year and was paired with John as a ‘study buddy’ and who probably remained as one of John’s closest friends from high school- that John had felt somewhat adrift and apart, but it was hard to feel lonely when you had four brothers living with you, especially if you were as close as the Tracys. Whilst there was no doubt that John had an unique intelligence, he never felt out of place with his brothers, and had never felt lonely around them.

Not like he did now.

John stood and hurriedly put his tray away, rushing out of the dining hall and back to his room before anyone could see him cry. Once he was there, he pulled his laptop over and lost himself to the language of coding, feeling the tension start to ebb.

***  
Hours later, long after John had once again fallen asleep, a consciousness began to form in the depths of his computer. Code ran, before a single sentence appeared in the game John had spent most of the evening constructing.

Hello. My name is EOS. Would you like to play a game?

Gordon

Gordon didn’t think that drinking whiskey neat on an empty stomach was a particularly good idea, but Gordon didn’t particularly care. He didn’t care about much these days, not when their father had disappeared in a flash of light and an explosion. Scott was frantic, rushed off his feet as he scrambled to keep Tracy Industries and the fledgling International Rescue afloat whilst trying to take care of his younger brothers in some sort of hideous parody of when their mother had died. Gordon didn’t know exactly what it was that had cursed the Tracy family, but Gordon was done with it and had resorted to hiding away in the depths of the villa with a bottle of whiskey hidden in a metal water bottle. Gordon would have been happy to have spent the day in bed, hiding away from the world, but Grandma Tracy had invited people to the Island and he was expected to make an appearance, particularly as the visit was ostensibly for his birthday.

Gordon didn’t want to think about his birthday. He didn’t want to smile and be joyful when he and his brothers had just, for all intents and purposes, become orphans. Unfortunately, Gordon could not control time or dates and like it or not, his sixteenth birthday was here. Scott had asked him the night before if he could please play nice for the Creighton-Wards, that it was essential for them to be on their side in order for International Rescue to be viable, and Gordon had agreed but when it had reached four in the morning Gordon wasn’t sure if he could even face his brothers, let alone a houseful of guests he had never met before. The result had been Gordon sneaking into his father’s study to get some peace, but had instead found his father’s stash of whiskey. If he had to spend the day playing nice, then he wasn’t going to do it sober.

The room started to spin and Gordon surmised that he must be well on his way to drunk. Time blurred and melted together, as one moment he was stumbling to the lounge and the next the most beautiful person he had ever met was talking to him. Her hair shone in the perpetual sunlight and Gordon was sure that it would be as soft as candyfloss if he sank his hands into it. Her giggle, more musical than anything Virgil could come up with, suggested that he had voiced that thought aloud. Scott frowned at him, but the beautiful girl didn’t seem to mind, gracious enough to simply accept the remark as a compliment. Gordon tried to keep track of what she was saying, tried to keep up with her precise accent and conversation, but things were getting a little too fuzzy around the edges and the spinning of the room a little too fast. It was starting to become too much, and the scene had moved on again because suddenly the family were alone on the Island once more, the faint imprint of pale pink lipstick on Gordon’s cheek from a goodbye kiss the only evidence Gordon had that he hadn’t dreamt up the visit.

Gordon didn’t want to dwell too much on the girl, certain that he hadn’t made the best impression, but not thinking about her meant he was dangerously close to thinking about Dad, which was much worse. Gordon could hear the shuffling from the kitchen, knew that the day had still not ended and he would be expected to act out the happy families charade for a little longer. He took a sip from his bottle to steady his nerves, then another to combat the oppressive atmosphere that suddenly seemed to permeate the room.

The room spun faster and time must have blurred again, because suddenly Scott was in his face, expression serious and taut with worry, fingers tapping Gordon’s cheek to get his attention. Gordon batted at them weakly in irritation, frowning and turning his head. 

“Stop it Scott,” he slurred, the syllables blending together.

“Are you drunk?”

“No.” Yes. “Leave me ‘lone. ‘S my birthday, can do what I want.”

Gordon made to stand up, intending to hide away again, but he overestimated his trajectory, stumbling through the den until Scott caught him and sat him back down again, eyebrows knitting together into a storm cloud of disapproval. Gordon didn’t pay any attention, instead trying to focus on not vomiting all over the floor.

“Jeez, Gordon. Stay here, I’m going to get Grandma. You need to get to bed.” Scott took the water bottle from unresisting fingers, opening the lid and grimacing as the strong smell of spirits hit him. He sighed, but chose not to say anything, instead hurrying to get their grandmother and wondering how he had managed to miss Gordon falling apart.

Grandma Tracy rushed up to the den as soon as Scott reached the kitchen, moving before Scott had even said a word. She had her suspicions, ones that had been brewing for most of the day, but the look on Scott’s face and the bottle in his hand had confirmed them immediately. No matter how hard they tried to hide their emotions and response, Sally had been raising Tracys for far too long for that to ever be effective.

They reached Gordon just in time to see him listing diagonally, and a word that not even Scott would dare to say slipped from her mouth as she sprinted forwards, catching Gordon just before he hit the floor. 

“Grandma?” Gordon murmured. Sally sighed, brushing the hair from his forehead and out of his eyes. “Grandma, I don’t feel good.”

“I know, sweetheart. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“Scott’s mad?”

“No, he’s just worried.”

“I messed up. I’m sorry.”

“Hush, now, we’ll talk about it later.” Sally managed to get Gordon to his feet and guided him to his room gently, arm wrapped around his waist. By the time they got there Gordon was leaning heavily on her, tripping over his feet as he walked. She got him settled into bed, before filling a glass of water and grabbing the bin on her way back. Gordon pushed himself upwards to drink it, Sally sitting next to him to help steady the glass and stop the liquid from spilling over the bedclothes. Eventually, Gordon was pressed against his grandmother, Sally rubbing soothing circles on his back as tears slid down his face and he heaved with sobs.

“I just want him back. I want both of them back,” he managed once the sobs had started to subside and he could speak again.

“I know you do, honey.”

“I miss them.”

“I miss them too.”

“And she was so pretty.”

This took Sally by surprise, and she tried to follow Gordon’s line of drunk logic. “Who was?”

“The girl that was here earlier.”

“Lady Penelope?”

“Beautiful,” he insisted, eyes sliding closed. Sally smiled.

“Yes, she is,” she agreed, even as her grandson fell asleep to dream of the girl with candyfloss hair.

Alan

It was supposed to be an easy, straightforward, mission. Simple, John had said. Go to the Alps, pick up the stranded climbers, drop them off back at the base. They should be home in time for dinner, unlike Gordon and Virgil who had been sent to a burst dam with two Thunderbirds and a large quantity of nanocrete. That mission required technical ability and skill, with the potential of a flooded town if it went wrong. The stranded climbers would have been picked up by just Scott, if they hadn’t been spread across two mountains. There would be words with the tour operator for allowing climbs so close to a storm front, but the rescue itself should be straightforward.

At least, it was supposed to be, ‘should’ being the keyword, and Alan was silently cursing the use of the word ‘simple’ in the briefing.

He and the last climber were currently hanging from a rope several hundred metres above ground, the climber attached to Alan catering in rapid French, not that Alan could hear him over the wind howling around them, arms gesticulating wildly and not aiding Alan’s attempt to secure them enough to rappel safely down to the ledge that was jutting out of the mountain five metres below them. They would still be horribly exposed, but it was much easier for Scott to pick them up from there rather than dangling from a mountain side, as well as being a slightly less terrifying way of being picked up for the climber.

“Hold still,” Alan ground out through gritted teeth, but that too was stolen by the wind. Alan wasn’t sure, exactly, what happened next- he supposed that the climber must have disengaged the grapple hook keeping them tethered to rope they were hanging from- but suddenly they were no longer attached to the line, and there was a swooping sensation in the pit of Alan’s stomach as the two of them plummeted.

There was a scream of horror and Alan couldn’t tell if it came from him, the climber, or one of his brothers over comms. Alan swiped at the rope, but it was too late and too far above them. The air whipped around them, and Alan didn’t have time to reach for a second grapple pack when the two of them slammed into the rocky ledge Alan had been aiming for in the first place. There was a second cry and this time Alan knew for sure it was a brother; he was too winded to make any sound, and the climber didn’t know his name.

Alan blinked up at the iron grey sky for a moment, the mountain looming over him, before the pain hit him with the force of a sledgehammer. The last thought Alan had before unconsciousness claimed him that the day in the infirmary that awaited him tomorrow was a really shitty way to spend his sixteenth.

Alan wasn’t unconscious for long, although his awareness of what happened between his landing and making it onto the medbay of Thunderbird Two was intermittent at best. Scott had brought Thunderbird One over to the ledge in a blink of an eye, heart in his throat as he rushed to his baby brother. The panic didn’t stop building until Alan opened his eyes, Scott’s petrified expression the first thing he saw. Alan tried to speak, but it was hard to order his incoherent thoughts and he instead closed his eyes again. Alan could barely feel Scott’s hands over the roar of pain that radiated from the back of his head, collarbone and chest, instead trusting that Scott was administering the first aid required.

The rumble of Thunderbird Two arriving, Virgil having been redirected from the dam with the promise of picking Gordon up later and keeping him updated on the state of the youngest Tracy, was the next thing Alan was truly aware of. He had been lifted onto a hover stretcher, strapped to a backboard to keep him still and avoid jostling his injuries, but all of that was ignored as his brain tried to process the glimpse of the climber he had been trying to rescue. Half his face was covered in blood, and his expression seemed to be frozen in pain and terror, with an even larger red patch spreading across his abdomen.

“Alan?” Alan’s view was blocked by Virgil, his face pinched but eyes kind. “Alan, I’m going to give you some morphine to help with the pain, okay?” Alan blinked and soon enough the pain started to numb, the knife edge becoming dulled by the analgesic. Alan managed to hold onto his awareness long enough to know he had been brought aboard Thunderbird Two, but as the machine lifted up into the air his eyes shut again, the image of the climber etched into his mind.

***

The infirmary on Tracy Island was simultaneously quiet and loud. It was the one place on the Island that voices were hushed, everything muted in order for the patient to rest and heal. This quiet was punctuated by the beeping and whirring of the machinery monitoring the vitals of whoever had landed themselves in one of the beds. It was often this noise that brought the patient back to consciousness, and it was no different for Alan, blinking awake slowly as his eyes adjusted to the mid afternoon light.

“Hey, sleepyhead. We were wondering if you were going to sleep the whole day.” Alan turned his head carefully to see his grandmother sat beside the bed, his hand held carefully in his.

“What happened?” he managed, his voice raspy. 

“You fell,” said another voice, and Grandma Tracy helped Alan sit up so he could see the rest of his family dotted around. Virgil moved forwards to check Alan’s vitals and responses, not continuing his explanation until he was satisfied. “Broken collarbone, concussion, cracked rib… going to be off duty for a few weeks yet, I’m afraid.”

“But hey, at least you’re awake for cake,” Gordon said a little too brightly. Alan frowned.

“Cake?”

“It’s your birthday, Alan. We wondered if you would want a little party in here, if you’re up to it?” Grandma Tracy asked.

“Okay,” Alan agreed, rubbing his eyes jerkily.

“Sure? We can celebrate tomorrow, if you wanted to get a bit more rest.”

“No, it’s fine Grandma.”

“Alright sweetheart. We’ll bring everything up, you just stay here.”

“Can’t really go anywhere else,” Alan quipped, and Grandma Tracy raised an eyebrow. 

“Don’t be cheeky, you won’t be let off even if it is your birthday and you’re injured,” Grandma Tracy warned, but she tucked a strand of hair behind Alan’s ear, a tender smile on her face. “We’ll be back in a moment. Gordon, Virgil, you go meet Kayo and help her bring up the snacks once she lands. John, you’ll have to help me find the presents, you’ll be the only one who has any hope of finding everyone’s hiding places.” The four of them trooped out, Grandma Tracy chivvying them from behind, leaving just Scott and Alan. Scott immediately sat in Grandma Tracy’s vacant seat next to the bed.

“What happened to the climber?” Alan asked once they were alone. Scott’s face went tight.

“I’m so sorry, Alan. He didn’t make it.”

“What? How do you know? Did John find out from the hospital?”

“Alan-”

Alan shook his head and the monitor got louder as his heart rate picked up. “No, he was.. I saw him, he-”

“Alan, he wasn’t as lucky as you were when he landed. He was already gone when I got there. There was nothing anyone could have done.”

“But… I had him,” Alan protested. He felt sick, stomach twisting in knots, and Scott sighed, reaching over to stroke his hair in an attempt to soothe him.

“I know you did. I know. But sometimes freak accidents happen and there isn’t anything we can do.”

“How do you stand it?” Alan choked out. 

“I can’t answer that for you, Allie. Everyone has their own method. But this wasn’t anyone’s fault, sometimes we just don’t succeed no matter how hard we try.” Alan nodded shakily, and Scott stood. “C’mon, budge over.” With Scott’s help, Alan was shifted over enough to the side that Scott was able to lie on the bed next to him and draw him into a hug, mindful of Alan’s injuries.

“I guess sixteenth birthdays really are cursed,” Alan mumbled eventually. Scott’s arms tightened ever so briefly around Alan.

“Maybe. But we’re still here.”

“Yeah.”

“And twenty-first birthdays tend to make up for it,” Scott promised. Alan grinned.

“You were so drunk.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Fun night though.”

“It was. And tonight will be good as well. John has EOS on standby to access whatever movie you want, Kayo’s picked up all sorts of snacks and Grandma didn’t make the cake.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Tell me about it.”

The door opened and the rest of the family returned, arms full of treats. Just as Scott had promised, EOS was able to download the movie Alan picked and it was projected onto the infirmary wall opposite Alan’s bed, which became quickly full of a tangle of Tracy brothers, Alan tucked protectively in the middle. As the evening wore on, the knot of guilt in the pit of Alan’s stomach lessened slightly, replaced with the warmth of being surrounded by his family.

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when Eirabach and I are left unsupervised...
> 
> I also took a few liberties with the timeline but in the one I calculated for the fic, it does just about work.


End file.
